


Devil's In The House of the Rising Sun

by sian1359



Series: Vegas 'verse [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Tag, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-12
Updated: 2009-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>#1 in the Vegas 'Verse series. After the fade to black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil's In The House of the Rising Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SGA Flashfic 2008 Amnesty: Gods and Monsters Challenge. Can be interpreted as gen or slash.

"Where in the hell am I? I was --"

"Dying in the desert? Yes, you were, John Sheppard."

"Okay." John blinked away the after images of two Warthogs screaming overhead and an explosion fading into a darkening sky. He was pretty sure there had been stars.

"So this is heaven? Hugh and Georgie will be so relieved. Or is this Hell?"

He spent another few seconds looking out over the skyline of The Strip, having already automatically placed himself in one of the rooms on the top floor of The Palms despite that being one of the casino hotels he wasn't exactly welcome in these days. Not after he'd busted one of young Hollywood's finest in the middle of a live televised charity poker tournament.

When he turned around, the woman behind him took a seat, but not before he cataloged her … assets. A redhead with flawless skin, a young face and old eyes. Someone his father would have called a bombshell and his mother an old soul -- like she was something unique and special in a town that produced showgirls by the thousands. Instead of a Playboy Bunny's get up, or even the sequins and feathers of a midnight review however, she was dressed like a dealer from the old Sands Hotel that had been imploded back in '96.

In front of her were two hands of two cards, dealt face down. She picked up the rest of the deck (no logo on the back that he recognized; some sort of stylized open A with a circle over its apex) and began expertly shuffling them through long, elegant fingers without ever breaking her gaze with him.

"Okay," John repeated and took a step toward the table. "I lose and it's Hell? I live in Nevada without air conditioning, and I lose at cards all the time. Will it really be all that different?"

She only offered him a Cheshire smile and spread the deck face down in a fan across the felt.

John took a seat. "You have a name?"

"I have many. Some call me Ancestor, other's Ancient. The creature you defeated before he killed you called me Enemy."

John flicked his eyes down his torso. The blood was missing, the bullet and shrapnel holes gone too although he could still feel the phantom pains of bleeding out. Nothing new; he'd been feeling that pain for six years. He was still wearing the same shirt and jacket from earlier, could feel the scruff of a couple day's worth of beard and a lifetime's worth of failure.

"You may call me Chaya."

He looked up into waiting eyes and then nodded.

"So this is what, a chance for redemption?"

"Do you need redemption, John?"

"I'm human, aren't I?"

That earned him a twinkle in her other-worldly eyes. Funny, how that word had suddenly been redefined in the last couple of days.

"If you like," she offered and tapped one of those manicured fingernails against his cards. The polish was a shimmer of aqua green that managed to look natural instead of an affectation.

"What's the game? Poker? Blackjack? Baccarat?"

"Do you play any of those better than the others?" Her smile returned, all-knowing, the kind he hated although he was pretty damn good at sporting one of them himself.

"If I played any of them well, I wouldn't be here." In Vegas -- in Purgatory.

"Then it shouldn't matter, right?" she laughed with the tinkling of church bells. Her hands again shuffled the deck and offered it to him.

"What would you prefer, John?

John waited a slow beat, letting a slow grin take over his face. The flash of startling blue eyes and a crooked frown blotted out her perfect features.

"Deal. I'm all in."

And he turned over a pair of Aces.

\- finis -


End file.
